Fix Me
by MajandraCarlyle
Summary: Series of "missing scenes" from Season 1 of Torchwood. Ianto Jones is the central character. Chapter 1 is set after the events of Countrycide.
1. Chapter 1

He closed the door carefully, locked it and hung the key on a little hook next to the wardrobe. He slipped out of his jacket and placed it over a hanger, smoothing out wrinkles with his hands before hanging it in the wardrobe. His shoes followed, neatly lined up next to each other, shoelaces tucked into the insides. He stared at the closed doors of the wardrobe for a moment, then he turned and headed for the bathroom. He washed his hands and proceeded to splash water on his face. Something was wrong. He looked down at his hands. They were shaking. He looked up into the mirror to see his reflection. Something told him that was a bad idea. Something was right. The face that looked back at him wasn't his own. It wasn't even the calm, polite, friendly mask that he had worn since Canary Wharf. This face was new. Pale with blotches of blood and dirt smeared all over it, features twisted, eyes wide, irises dilated.  
The tremor moved from his hands up his arms, over his chest and abdomen, and down his legs. His knees stopped working and he sagged to the floor. His whole body was now shaking uncontrollably. Something hit the tiled floor with a loud clank. He stared at the rectangular object. Without making a conscious decision, he watched his shaking hand reaching for it and pressing the speed dial button.

"Ianto?" He flinched at the sound of the male voice in his bathroom."Ianto? What is it?" There was impatience in that voice. Ianto wrapped his arms around his legs. He had to control the shaking. He had to reply to that voice. A dry sob escaped his lips.

There was a pause, then, "Don't move, I'll be right there."


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

Ianto woke with a start. It was still dark outside and the only light in the room came from the yellow street lamp outside the window. Ianto looked around. He was in his bedroom. Everything looked normal. But how had he gotten here? What had happened? There was not a single part of his body that didn't hurt, including a sharp pain that shot through his head. Ianto winced and pressed his palms to his head, trying to stop it from exploding.

There was a movement on the floor and, for a moment, Ianto's heart stopped beating. Images of a blood stained carpet, rusty blades and dirty plastic curtains filled his thoughts instantly. He started to frantically search for a weapon, protection, anything, when the monster raised his head over the edge of the bed. Not finding anything, Ianto backed away until the headboard of his bed stopped him from escaping any further.

The monster was close, almost there; it grabbed his shoulders and shook him. All Ianto could do was stare into its yellow, demon eyes. The monster was going to kill him, he was going to die and there was nothing he could do.

Someone called his name. _Who was it? He knew that voice. Whoever it was, they were in danger! Surely the monster would come after them next. He had to warn them, tell them to run!_ Ianto opened his mouth to scream but no sound came out, only helpless panting.

Then the voice said, "I'm sorry, Ianto, I'm so sorry..." A sharp pain whipped across his face.

Ianto gasped and his eyes flew open. There was no monster. There was only...

"Jack?" Ianto's voice sounded surprised. "What are you doing here?" He could not quite keep the distaste he felt for seeing his boss in his bedroom out of his voice.

If Jack noticed, he didn't show it. He simply let his hand drop from Ianto's shoulder and stood up. The light shining in from the street faintly illuminated his silhouette and he stuffed his hands in his pockets. In his so very captain-ish posture, he cocked his head ever so slightly when he asked, "You called me last night. Don't you remember?"

After a moment's hesitation, Ianto shook his head slowly. _Why would he call Jack outside work hours…? Jack! Of all people? Why last night? What had happened? _Before Ianto was able to finish that thought, a soft thud startled him. A small rectangular object had landed on the bed next to him. Ianto looked at it, his phone, and then at Jack, uncomprehending.

"Pick it up, check the dialed numbers." Jack nodded towards the phone.

Dialed numbers... _had he really...?_ _Why was it so hard to focus? Why was there not an inch of his body that didn't hurt? Why could he not remember, why ...?_

"Why are you here, Jack?"

"You were in pretty bad shape last night. In shock. I didn't think you should stay here alone." Jack paused for a moment and tilted his head a little more. "What do you remember, Ianto?"

Images out of his nightmares began to fill Ianto's mind, and then there was that smell, that awful smell. A groan passed his lips involuntarily. He hugged his knees and buried his face between them.

"I'd rather not think about it, sir."

Jack nodded slowly. There was silence between them while Ianto tried his best to fight the nausea that was forcing itself up his throat. It felt like rats were gnawing at his intestines. Every time he tried to breathe there was this stench again, sickeningly sweet, like wet rust and...

"Well, I guess, you're better now. That means I can get back to my duties."

Ianto looked up and started to protest, "Sir, I've never ask- …" He paused. For all he knew, he had.

He watched Jack grab his coat from the floor from where he had been laying, and march towards the door. Jack hesitated for a moment under the doorframe, glancing back at Ianto who still sat on his bed, arms wrapped tightly around his knees.

"Listen..." Jack cleared his throat. "Um... don't be late for work. There's a lot of paperwork to do and I need your magic filing powers." He let out a half-hearted laugh.

Ianto just nodded, not bothering to turn around to face Jack. "Yes... yes... I'll be there..."


End file.
